Dark of My Nightmares
by Kavi Leighanna
Summary: Emily Prentiss was one heck of an FBI agent and it was all because of now-Congressman Max Smith. H/P
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER ONE**

"They ruled it a good shoot."

Hotch looked up at the woman in the doorway, her dark hair curled in the way that made her look so much more vulnerable than she'd proven herself to be. He cracked a small smile. "Of course they did. It was a good shoot."

She blew out a breath. "I still killed a man."

He had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. In the three weeks since they'd been back from Columbus, Ohio, the topic of the shooting of Henry Cademon had come up time and time again. He'd patiently talked Emily through every variation, but he was starting to both get seriously concerned about her state of mind and her emotional well-being. Not to mention how sick he was of having this conversation. "Emily-"

"I know. I do." She managed a smile. "I still don't like it."

"You're human, you're not supposed to like it."

"So you keep telling me. I just wanted to let you know that I'm clear to carry again."

He smiled his thanks as she went back to her desk. Hotch dropped his pen to his file with a sigh, his forehead landing in his palms. He'd known anything with Emily was going to be an uphill battle. He'd always known that, but this… he wasn't sure he was prepared for this. All hours phone calls he could deal with, more because they were about her nightmares than anything else, but one thing he'd never realized was how incredibly self-deprecating the woman could be. While he knew she wasn't the glass-half-full kind of person like Garcia was or the generally smiling JJ, he'd never expected the level of cynicism he'd been getting out of her for the last three weeks.

Hotch knew Derek was still watching Emily carefully. He knew that the younger man was still worried about his best friend. What he was happy to see was that Emily and Reid seemed to be patching the rift between them. Whether it was because Reid had seen Emily struggling through the Ohio case or from something they'd talked about at a later date, Hotch had no idea, but he didn't much care either, so long as they were patching things up. Garcia almost hovered, just under the radar that he didn't think Emily noticed. JJ checked on her periodically, though Hotch had the vague idea that she was probably doing it through Dave too. They were all keeping a close eye on her. As if she would shatter any minute.

But Emily had proven in the last couple of weeks that shattering wasn't something she did without provocation. She was trying to move on past it all, trying to focus on something other than Cyrus and Cademon. She was trying to focus on moving forward. But he knew, in the wee hours of the morning, there was nothing she could do to protect herself. There was nothing she could do about the nightmares that still plagued her. He'd lost hours of sleep over those nightmares.

And yet, he wouldn't give it up. He wanted to be there for her, he wanted to be by her side, wanted to help her through this tough time. Because he'd learned in Columbus that Emily was more important to him than a colleague. The way he'd hovered, the way he'd felt when she curled into him after nightmares… it wasn't just a boss hoping for the best for his colleague. He cared about her and about the type of person she was. The last thing he wanted was for her to doubt herself in the field. She'd turned out to be one of the best agents he'd had the privilege to work with. Losing her would be a blow to the BAU, so he'd do everything to make sure that she adjusted okay to everything now.

And then he'd make a few other adjustments to her life. It helped that she already relied on him when the nightmares came. Instead of dialling Derek, she called him and he sat up with her until she fell asleep again. He didn't feel comfortable simply suggesting they share a bed like they had after some of her nightmares in Columbus. He didn't want to add his feelings on top of her nightmares.

Hotch sighed as he looked over her psych evaluation. She'd passed with flying colours, apparently not exhibiting any signs of anything to worry about. Hotch knew better and he knew that Derek knew better. Heck, even Reid knew Emily wasn't her usual self. He didn't fault her and neither did the rest of the team, but it was something new for all of them to finally see the woman struggle.

"Hey Hotch?"

He looked up to see JJ in the doorway. He'd been dreading this part of the day. He and JJ had met the night before to discuss a call that had come to him from higher ups in the Bureau. "JJ."

"Everyone's waiting for you."

Hotch sighed as he pushed himself up from his chair. He was glad Emily could carry again and that was the only way he was even thinking about going back into rotation. He didn't like the idea of having a team without one of its members, regardless of how much she was struggling. He took his seat between Emily and Dave, watching JJ waddle around the table to the front of the room.

"We've been specially called in to work a case in Washington DC. There's a serial blackmailer," JJ said, pointing the remote at the television at the front of the room, bringing up pictures of a few typed notes.

"His secret?" Derek asked, glancing up from the file he was simultaneously reading with pictures of the real things. "What kind of a secret. And how do we know these threats are anything?"

JJ tossed the morning paper on the table. Sure enough, the front page was about the Congressman accepting bribes from various corporations to ensure they received high-level government contracts. "And, according to the notes, that's only the beginning."

"Do I want to ask?" Dave asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Congressman Josh Infantry from Texas paid the requested amount in his blackmail letter. His improprieties involving prostitutes still came out," JJ said. "Congresswoman Brennan Woods' teenaged pregnancy and abortion came out last week."

Dave whistled. "She was instrumental in the pro-life debate."

"You know, part of me hates that the politicians get so much focus," Emily said conversationally. "Why are they calling us in?"

"A couple of higher ups in the Bureau want us to work a gala coming up at the end of the week. These aren't the only three congress representatives who have been threatened. They're taking these threats seriously. The last one Congressman Infantry received threatened his life and the life of his family. I don't think I need to tell you how important this case is to everyone's bosses," Hotch spoke up, meeting the eyes of every person in the room. Emily's eyes were far away when he finally reached her. "Emily?"

"Is this the United Way Gala on Friday night?"

JJ looked down at her notes then back up in surprise. "It is."

"And I'd just convinced my mother it wasn't important that I be there," she murmured, rubbing a hand over her forehead. "Did she call us in?"

"I doubt it," Hotch said, trying to be reassuring. "You don't have to do this."

"But I will," she replied. "I have to."

"No you don't," he repeated. "You can work the case with JJ and Garcia from here."

She was shaking her head before he finished. "Not a chance. This just means I have to go shopping."

Hotch made a mental not to pull her aside later, when the rest of the team wasn't around. It was hard enough for her to appear weak in front of him, to start opening up to him. There was no way she was going to talk honestly with him when the team was right there. "For now let's work the case from here. What do we know?"

"We need to know what these people had in common besides their jobs," Derek spoke up. "The scandals?"

"Is there victimology in three separate scandals? One sexual, one monetary, one social," Dave replied. "Can we honestly say that this is the same guy?"

"We need more information," Hotch agreed.

"Too bad. I'm not a big fan of political extravaganzas," Dave quipped.

"You're preaching to the choir," Emily nodded as she stood, closing her file. "I've been to one too many in my life."

"Let's get everything packed up and head to Washington. I'd like to see the crime scene before we start to worry about our attendance at this gala," Hotch interrupted. "Be ready in an hour."

* * *

**_I wasn't going to do this. Really. I wasn't going to do this. But I did. 'Cause the idea came to me and as many of you well know, I'm a slave to my ideas. We'll see how this goes. I'm in the process of trying to iron out all of the details with this case. _**

**_Technically, this follows Dark of Night. It'll be another case-centered fic, but I'm hoping to throw in a little bit more of the romantic side of this Hotch/Prentiss relationship I just started touching on in Dark of Night. Because apparently I can't help but make Emily the victim. But I think I've positioned her to play a much stronger victim in this baby. _**

**_Let me know what you think of the first chapter please? I'm not sure when the second's going to be up, but I'm going to try for shortly!_**


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

Emily sighed as she climbed in the front seat with Hotch on their way to Washington DC. She didn't want to do this. She didn't want to play politics for a case. She hated playing politics for a case. She'd claimed the keys and started the engine quickly.

"You really don't have to do this, you know," he told her as she pulled out of the Bureau garage.

"If you keep telling me that I'm going to start to think you don't want me here," she quipped back, softening the blow with a small smile. "I can do this, Hotch. There's nothing wrong with this case."

"There was nothing wrong with the last one either," he pointed out logically.

Emily nodded even as she took a deep breath to ward off the adrenaline that still started pumping as she remembered. One of her hands released the steering wheel to press on the hip that had been burned by their UNSUB. "And yet we all made it out of that one okay too. I can take care of myself, Hotch. I know my own limits."

"That sounds familiar too."

Emily glanced over at him. His voice had taken on a tone she now recognized well, a tone that told her his questions, his pressure, was simply coming from the way he cared. And that had been something that she'd been treading around slowly. She wasn't sure what to do with him sometimes. There were times his eyes were just that tidbit too intense, when his voice dropped to too intimate a tone. Moments like that confused her. She didn't know what to do, how to handle herself or if there was something behind those. She wasn't sure she wanted to think of the repercussions of thinking that there was something behind things like that.

"Have I ever proven different?" she asked, dropping her voice slightly. She saw his fists clench out of the corner of her eyes.

"No," he admitted and she wondered if she was imagining the reluctance in his voice.

"Then trust me on this. There should be nothing wrong with this case. Well, with the exception of my mother."

She knew she'd won this time by the way he folded his arms across his chest. "I don't like it."

"You don't have to," she replied chuckling. "But you do have to respect it." And when they all made it through this case, she was going to sit down with him and talk about this need to keep her locked away and safe. She'd been an agent for over ten years. She was good at her job. She'd proven time and time again she was good at her job. So why was he so hell bent on convincing her to stay back, to play it safe?

"Politicians can have any number of enemies," she said with the goal of changing the direction of the conversation. "I don't think we're going to find a link there."

"Or at least not one that can be easily explained away," he agreed, shooting her a look that told her he'd noticed her little tactic. But he'd gone along with it so she didn't think much of it.

"So Dave's right. What's the victimology here? Other than obviously trying to squeeze money out of politicians with some to spare?" she asked with the shake of her head. "And why blackmail them in the first place? Isn't it an unwritten rule that to be in office you need to have at least one scandal under your belt?"

"I don't like this," he admitted. "Something tells me this isn't the end, by any means."

"And that's why we accepted the case?"

"Congressman Bentley had his house ransacked last week," Hotch pointed out.

Emily nodded. She'd seen the crime scene photos and the latest note the UNSUB had left on the wall of the Congressman's living room. _I'm coming for you_. "But Congressmen aren't always the most favoured people in their community, Hotch. Not even in their community, in the political sphere. There's nothing worse than having a politician for an enemy."

--

She sounded like she spoke from experience and Hotch didn't know what to think about it. There was a quiet sadness in his voice that he most definitely didn't like, the same quiet sadness that was there when she talked about the shooting. He wished she'd see someone qualified to handle this type of thing. He wished he was more qualified to deal with her insecurities and her unstable emotions.

Because that was one thing he hadn't been expecting. He hadn't been ready for Emily to be so emotionally unstable. Pillars of strength like her quite simple were never unstable. They couldn't be. And to be a control freak like she was, instability was not acceptable. Yet, she'd proven that even rocks have their weak spots, that even Emily Prentiss wasn't always perfectly composed.

He hadn't realized his phone was ringing until Emily poked his arm at a red light. "Phone."

"Hotchner."

"_Agent Hotchner, it's Detective Bellum, DCPD."_

"What can I do for you, Detective?"

"_Congressman Infantry's gone missing."_

"He what?" His tone had probably gone a little darker than it should have, but he didn't much care at the moment. He had a feeling he wasn't about to enjoy the heat they'd be getting from a missing congressman.

"_He's missing,_" Detective Bellum repeated. "_He was supposed to speak at a UNICEF luncheon and never showed. We found his car, empty. No signs of the Congressman. We're just canvassing the neighbourhood and the surrounding areas. We've got a unit heading out to check on the wife and family."_

Hotch had to admit, the idea that the detective had done all of that before their arrival impressed him almost as much as the fact that Bellum was sharing all of that information with him in the first place. It was always easier to work with departments that respected their unit, even if it was because of the FBI involved. "We're on the road. We'll be there shortly."

"Everything okay?" Emily asked as he hung up the phone.

"Congressman Infantry is missing."

Emily's eyebrow went up. "Missing? How does a congressman go missing?"

"They found his car, but he wasn't inside." He relayed the information Detective Bellum had passed on quickly and efficiently.

"Where to first?" she asked.

"You and I are going to the lunch. JJ and Reid can take Garcia and head to the station. I want Rossi and Morgan to go look at Congressman Bentley's home after they talk to the Infantry family."

She nodded and he could see her doing some sort of calculation in her head. Then, she glanced around, as if reminding herself where she was. Then, much to his surprise, she changed lanes.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting us to the luncheon. Make the calls, I know a short cut."

He really didn't like splitting up the team without first meeting with the local PD, but with a congressman missing and another with a threat painted on his living room wall, Hotch wasn't taking any chances.

"You must be FBI."

Hotch held his arm out to the tall almost gangly blond man that approached. "Supervisory Special Agent Hotchner, this is SSA Prentiss."

"Pleasure, ma'am."

"Likewise," Emily replied with a small smile as she shook his hand.

"Detective Charlie Bellum, head on the case."

"What do you know?" Hotch asked.

"Not much, unfortunately," Charlie replied. "There's nothing in the car to suggest a struggle, nothing to suggest he didn't just get up and walk away."

Emily arched an eyebrow. "During Child Week in Washington? I doubt he just up and walked away."

Charlie chuckled. "Exactly, ma'am. Congressman Infantry did a lot of foreign work with kids in places like Africa."

"Have you met the congressman?" Emily asked, easily taking control of the conversation.

Hotch allowed it. She would probably know the better questions to ask and it seemed like Detective Bellum was at ease answering her questions. Plus, it seemed like she knew more about the luncheon than he did. He hadn't asked the detective for the name of the convention hall it was taking place at.

"Once or twice. Small world, his kids play in my son's hockey league."

And in Washington, it was a small world.

"Were there signs of struggle anywhere?" she asked, her dark eyes covered with dark sunglasses as she glanced around.

"Nothing. We're still checking with the guests to see if they saw Congressman Infantry at all today. Trying to nail down a timeline." Then he let out a sigh, and both Hotch and Emily turned to see news teams pulling up.

"I wish they weren't here."

"We all do," Emily promised sympathetically. "Let's concentrate on the missing person, leave the news to JJ."

"JJ?"

"Our media liaison, Agent Jareau. Don't approach them. Leave it to the politicians and JJ," Hotch agreed. "She's good at her job."

"She'd better be," Charlie replied, his hands on his hips. "Washington press are like vultures."

Hotch and Emily exchanged a wry smirk. "We know."


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER THREE**

"Have you met any of our victims?"

Emily glanced over at her Unit Chief as they made their way up the front steps of the conference hall. Detective Bellum – Charlie, her mind corrected her, as the detective had insisted they use his first name – seemed to have the street well in hand and with no evidence around other than the fact that it was a Washington street during day hours, there was nothing she or Hotch could contribute there.

"No," she said finally. "Not that I remember anyway. Haven't I told you I avoid Mother's functions as best I can?" Her brow wrinkled as she thought about it.

"Told me, no, but it's not difficult to infer," he allowed.

She sighed. "I was supposed to come to this, you know," she revealed finally. "This is my favourite political week of the year, even if I hate the pomp and circumstance that goes with it."

"Why?" he asked.

She smiled. "I love kids. Every charitable donation I've made since I started in the FBI has been aimed at children. I was invited to this luncheon."

"And you turned it down?"

Emily knew he was fishing a little bit, but she'd let him. He'd made it clear in action and in word that he wanted to be beside her. She didn't know if that meant in the long run or while she recovered from the aftermath of their time in Ohio. She wasn't sure she wanted to get her hopes up on the former. "I have a different job than the people in there, Hotch. They invited me because of my name and the fact that I donate to children. Plus, I didn't need to sit there and listen to politicians talk about changing the world and changing the plight of children in the international community when I know so many of them aren't going to do anything about it."

He shook his head, guiding her through the door with a hand on her back. His head bent down to her ear as they absorbed the people loitering around, irritated at the lock down. "I'm still getting used to your cynicism."

She bit her cheeks against the smile and the shiver.

"Where do you want to start?"

She sighed. "Let's get everyone seated. I think it'll be easier to talk to them that way."

* * *

Hotch could tell Emily was having a hard time. It wasn't in any sort of lines on her face or noticeably in her posture, but Hotch had started to basically make it his mission to keep an eye on his gorgeous colleague. He wanted to. Regardless of how slow he was planning on taking their relationship, how much he cared and noticed her wasn't something he could turn off at the drop of a pin.

No one had seen anything, something Hotch honestly found a little difficult to believe considering it was the middle of the day in Washington. Even Detective Bellum hadn't found anything in the canvass with his officers. Congressman Infantry had managed to vanish without a trace. It was a disturbing thought.

Connecting with Derek and Rossi hadn't made his day any happier either. They'd found nothing other than the B&E at the Bentley house that could connect anything together. Garcia had been cross-referencing, but since all three representatives ran in the same circles, it was easy to find commonalities. They only needed one, but it wasn't exactly jumping out to greet them. Which didn't bode well for the case.

"What do we do now?" Detective Bellum asked as the last group of people left the interview room.

Hotch tried not to let his sigh be heard. He didn't like where this case was going at all. They had nothing to go on, one congressman being threatened, and the other missing. Hotch would bet a year's worth of pay that this was really only the beginning. "We wait."

* * *

It was the next day that the call came in. Congressman Infantry had been found. And it didn't look good.

"Single gunshot wound to the head, execution style," Emily said, standing over the body in the late June sunshine. "Didn't bother to really hide him either. The bottom of the Washington Monument isn't exactly subtle."

"How did he get here?" Derek asked, looking around. "And without being seen."

"He sure as heck got his message across," Dave said.

"Morgan, call Congressman Bentley's house. Tell them we're sending a team of agents to pick them up and take them to a safehouse," Hotch demanded.

The African-American man turned away as Hotch came up to stand beside Emily. Her arms were folded across her chest as her eyes took in the body. "He wasn't killed here, that much is obvious. There's nowhere close to enough blood. The question is, what is the exact message he wants to get across to us? That lying gets you killed? That Washington's full of dirty politicians? Because last time I checked, bribery was pretty low on the hierarchy of Washington felonies."

"He wants attention, that's for sure. You don't drop a body off at the Washington Monument and not want attention," Dave said, coming to stand on Emily's other side.

JJ came up then, as fast as her legs would carry her and her baby. "They're hounds, Hotch. We need to get this cleaned up ASAP."

Detective Bellum pulled up then, with forensic trucks. He jogged to them. "Sorry 'bout that. It was rough getting in here."

Hotch nodded toward the overflow of cameras flashing away. "I'm not surprised."

The detective blew out a breath. "Yeah. There's no way we're going to keep this quiet. This is Washington."

"We can still dream," Emily spoke up, joining their little circle. "ME."

"I'll make sure it's top priority if it isn't already," Bellum assured the team around him. "Does this tell us anything?"

"He's serious," Emily said softly, her eyes darting around at the cameras. "This is his message right here. Listen, pay attention, or this is what happens to you. And I'd bet that his next one won't be this clean."

Bellum's eyebrows knit together. "Why do you say that?"

"The Bentley ransack was all about rage," Derek said as he snapped his phone closed. With a nod, he confirmed that not only did the Bentleys know the FBI was coming, but the FBI was probably already on its way.

"Then why was this quick, clean and simple?" Bellum asked.

"Deceptively simple," Hotch replied. "The point of this was to send a message. The effort our UNSUB would have had to go through to get Congressman Infantry here, to position him perfectly... This was all to make sure that the media saw it and so that we got the message."

Detective Bellum put his hands on his hips, his eyes floating over the cameras, the body, the crime scene tape and the Monument. "Oh, I think we got the message."

* * *

**_I didn't forget! This has just taken forever to write because I want to make sure I set it all up correctly. I have like... 4 chapters from later in the story all written out and I really want to get to posting them 'cause that's really the core of it. Setting it up is annoying. I'm sick of the set up. And yet... it has to happen._**


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER FOUR**

With Congressman Bentley safely in a house surrounded by Bureau agents and Congresswomen Woods' house and office being monitored and watched, it left the team to build a profile now including their new information.

"So he wants to make sure everyone knows whatever the politician's done," Emily said. "And since Congressman Infantry didn't follow instructions, and basically went into hiding after he paid the ransom and the release of his little scandal, the UNSUB hunted him down and killed him, then displayed him for all of Washington."

The phone rang then, distracting them completely. Derek was the one to hit the speakerphone button. "Mama."

"I have raided literally every single database on these people in the world. NCIC, medical records, you name it, I've looked for Congressman Infantry, Congressman Bentley and Congresswomen Woods in it. It took _forever_ too because some of them I had to do it by hand and..."

"Garcia, what's the point?" Dave interrupted.

"Well, to the extent of my fantastic knowledge, there's next to no points of similarity between the deceased Congressman Infantry and his esteemed, if dirty, colleagues," Garcia said. "But they each have suspicious transactions."

"The blackmailer?" Reid asked.

"I doubt it," Garcia replied. "Unless he's been blackmailing people for years. They suddenly stopped about seven months ago."

"Why?" Hotch asked.

"No idea, Boss. Transactions were all withdrawals of cash so I can only assume it went to underhanded dealing."

"Not every cash transaction is underhanded, Pen," Emily scolded. "Is there anything else?"

"I found Congresswoman Woods' medical records. No listing of the abortion on the top level, but upon some further digging, I found it. Congressman Bentley's fraud is a long, long list... And we all know about Congressman Infantry. The really fun part was trying to dig up anything else. There's a Congressman from New York that's been in rehab three times since becoming a congressman... Congresswoman Noones has been accused of having an affair, but nothing was ever apparently proven."

"How many, Garcia?" Hotch asked apprehensively.

"Enough to make even the prospect of interviewing and warning them a daunting task," Garcia replied apologetically.

Emily blew out a breath. "Excellent."

"Thanks, Baby Girl," Derek said.

"I'll call back if I find anything more concrete and the names are on the way. Technical genius out!"

Emily blessed Garcia's technical brilliance when Detective Bellum stepped in wither list. She thanked the detective with a smile as she glanced through the pages. "Garcia's right. This is a crazy list."

"Which scandals are likely to come to our UNSUB's attention?" Hotch asked, coming to stand beside her.

She sighed, concentrating and now used to him standing so close. Sometimes his presence distracted her. Most of the time, it calmed here and helped her focus. "Not sure yet. Does anyone else have a guess?"

"Each of our members of congress is involved with a different scandal... prostitutes, abortions, tax fraud... and let's be honest, tax fraud is definitely not something to write home about," Derek spoke up. "There's nothing consistent."

"Except that it's the one guy," JJ said.

"Not just one guy, but one guy with a grudge. He sees himself as a cleaner, someone who is responsible for cleaning up Congress instead," Reid agreed. "He's trying to make the lawmakers upstanding members of the community and people who we would be proud to call our politicians."

"By killing them?" Bellum inquired.

"Not exactly," Reid corrected. "By trying to get them to confess somehow." His brows wrinkled in confusion.

"Then what can we do?" Bellum asked. "We can't just sit here and wait. We're going to get eaten."

Emily looked up at Hotch. "He's right. We can't just sit here. The press..."

"Since when do we let the press keep us from our job?" JJ inquired with a grin. "The press is mine."

Emily grinned as Hotch chuckled, aware that both of them were thinking the same thing. JJ was a pit bull when she wanted to be and there was a reason she was so incredibly good at her job. "You are the reason we have never backed down from the press," Hotch agreed.

"I thought so," JJ agreed. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to talk to Garcia before I schedule a press conference and write a press release."

"Keep me posted," Hotch requested, taking the lists from Emily's hands.

"Always Boss. Let me know if anything comes up I need to include." The blond left.

Emily blew out a breath. "Who would have access to all of these people and every single one of their secrets?"

Dave's head shot up. "A private investigator."

"What?" Derek asked.

Emily was already nodding, eyes wide. "A PI. It's their job to know secrets."

"That would explain the withdrawals of cash," Hotch agreed.

"Check cell phone records," Dave said. "Trace numbers that are alike and let's find that private investigator."

* * *

It was much different to play the game of politics as an FBI agent than it was to play the game as someone actually part of the inner circle. Hotch could see the exasperation on Emily's face as they had gone through the second interview with Congresswoman Woods and her family. She was all but fuming as he drove down the long driveway away from the Woods' home. Eventually, she exploded.

"_That_ is why I hate politics!" she exclaimed. "That woman didn't answer a single one of our questions!"

"They're trained not to," he replied as he navigated away from the mansion.

"Well, yes, but that doesn't make it any less annoying. It's annoying when your own coping mechanisms are thrown back in your face, let alone when someone does it while you're trying to help them."

"You answer questions the same way," Hotch pointed out.

"Do I?" Emily asked in surprise.

"When you don't want to answer a question. You and JJ are the experts on question evasion," he replied, hand reaching out to take hers and squeeze, trying to convey that it was simply a statement of fact and not meant to make her over-think. Sometimes, he had a habit of doing that with her.

"I'm sorry," she said, squeezing back and he took comfort in the fact that he'd obviously conveyed his point accurately. "I don't want to be evasive, most of the time. Why haven't you said anything?"

And all of a sudden their conversation had shifted from the professional to the personal. It wasn't the first time it had happened since Ohio, but it still managed to take him off guard almost every time. "Because most of the time we're talking about your nightmares. The last thing I want to do is push you or pressure you. Sometimes I wonder if the nightmares have anything to do with the cases we work on."

She shifted slightly and he knew he'd hit an uncomfortable topic. Obviously not all of her nightmares had anything to do with their cases. "Not always," she agreed quietly.

"I want you to feel comfortable telling me," he said sincerely.

"Some things are just too difficult to talk about," she told him. "There are parts of me I've sworn no one will ever learn."

That hurt and disappointed him a little, but Hotch did nothing other than squeeze her hand again. He wanted her trust more than anything. He needed her trust before he seriously contemplated pushing forward. "I don't want to pressure you."

"It means a lot," she said. "That you won't ask for more than I can give."

While he knew they were on the same page in their topic of conversation and though she'd basically just told him she wanted to stick to the status quo for the time being, for the first time in their little quasi-relationship, he wanted to push forward. He was starting to get sick of holding back the way his feelings had grown for her as he acted as her support. "Emily I…"

Her cell rang then, completely interrupting their conversation. Emily answered the phone and quickly switched it so he could hear the voice on the other end of the line. "Garcia?"

"I found your private investigator," the tech revealed.

Of course she did. Hotch grinned. "And?"

"George Stacks, DOB 06/24/1926. Unfortunately, I found him six feet under. Died seven months ago, leaving behind two daughters and a son."

Hotch managed to withhold a curse. This guy was their best lead. "Where are the kids?"

"One daughter moved to Alabama after getting married, the other lives in Boston," Garcia replied promptly.

"And the son?" Emily inquired.

"Get this. Son Kevin has a home address in the DC area and it looks like he followed in Daddy's footsteps. The very un-creatively named Starks Investigations is now registered under his name."

"He doesn't by chance keep a client list you can get a hold of, does he?" Emily asked.

"Unfortunately, Sugar, no," Garcia apologized. "That's all up to you top notch minds. But I can double check the names on the lists if you can get them to me."

"Will do, Garcia," Emily promised without having to look at Hotch. It was, after all, the next logical step. She hung up the phone.

"So, what do you think, Agent Prentiss?" Hotch asked, chancing a glance her way. She had her agent face on and he knew he was going to get nowhere if he went back to their previous line of conversation.

"I think that list is our best lead," she replied. "I think we need to pay Mr. Stacks Jr. a visit."

Hotch grinned, glancing down at his Blackberry as it beeped with the required directions. This could be the lead they really needed to close their case. But he had another reason to be grinning.

She still hadn't let go of his hand.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER FIVE**

Emily bit her tongue against the scoff she felt rising up in her throat. The office of the private investigator was disgusting in its stereotypical simplicity. The light behind the clouded glass was dim and Stacks Investigations was printed in block letters across the glass. She rolled her eyes at Hotch, both of them wordlessly deciding to skip through the niceties for the time being. She was the one that pushed open the door, not bothering to knock.

A petite redhead looked up from a desk just to the left of another door. "Good afternoon. Can I help you?"

"We need to speak to Kevin Stacks," Hotch said immediately. He took her lead, much to her surprise. They were going to play hard ball on this one. She preferred it that way.

"I'm sorry, sir. Do you have an appointment?"

"No," Hotch replied. He kept walking, ignoring her, and heading for the door. Emily followed, shooting a smile at the woman. Kevin Stacks was a thin man, not much older than Emily herself. He sat behind a large desk as Emily and Hotch entered his office. They'd debated going in as someone needing the PI's help, but figured if they really wanted the list, it was going to be easier to just ask.

"Damnit Janine! I thought I told you no visitors!" Kevin yelled out to his receptionist.

"Now now," Emily said, flashing her badge. "If I was Janine I'd have allowed us in too."

Kevin's eyes widened. "What can I do for the Bureau today?"

Emily really didn't want to know what he'd done for the Bureau in the past. The way his eyes flashed told her that whatever the investigator had helped with, it wasn't for the benefit of the Bureau as a whole. "We want to talk to you about your father."

He dropped back into his chair. "Even dead he haunts me."

Hotch arched an eyebrow. "You didn't have a good relationship with your father."

"I'm assuming that's a rhetorical question, Agent..."

"Hotchner."

Emily _really_ didn't like the gleam in Kevin's eye. "As in the William Hotchner, Hotchners?"

"Mr Stacks, do you know anything about the disappearance and death of Congressman Infantry?" she asked, trying to steer them back to the reason they were there.

"I heard about that. Tragic. Washington Monument, right?" Kevin asked, his eyes turning on hers.

She didn't give him n inch. She wasn't the type to back down, especially not from people like him. "Your father worked for him."

"My father did a lot of work for the Capitol Hill types," the PI agreed.

"And you took over the family business," Emily replied. "Including his clientele."

"Congressman Infantry and I have never met," Kevin replied.

"Did your father keep a list of his clients?" she asked. Deliberately wording the question in the framework of his father, she hoped it would lull him into a false sense of security.

"He did," Kevin replied with a smirk, but Emily could tell she wasn't going to like this answer. "But you're going to need a warrant to see it." He leaned forward. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"

Emily plastered a smile on her face. "No, thank you."

"I'm sure we'll be seeing each other soon."

Emily preceded Hotch out of the office, flashing Janine a smile as she left. He looked absorbed in something else as they ambled their way down the hall. He walked beside her, but didn't say anything. "Hotch?"

He shook his head, trying to kill the cobwebs. "Sorry."

"No reason to apologize," she said. "If a slimy guy like Kevin Stacks all but told me he knew some of my family's secrets I'd be a little out of it too."

"You never did identify yourself other than your badge."

"Of course not. I know my family has skeletons in the proverbial closet," she answered. Even she had things she never wanted to surface. "It wouldn't surprise me to discover a PI had a whole file on my family." She stopped at the elevator – Kevin Stacks was on the eighth floor of a rather large office building – and cocked her head to the side. "Probably each member of my family," she amended.

He nodded slowly and she found herself waiting for him to ask what kind of secrets her family had hidden. But he was too case-focused. "What do you think of him?"

"Stacks?" Emily inquired.

Hotch nodded again, holding the door for her.

"I think that he knows who did it. If he doesn't, he knows someone who does," she replied. "He prides himself on knowing everything about everyone."

"He's dangerous," Hotch said quietly.

Emily blew out an annoyed breath. "We're stuck waiting for the next fallen politician."

She watched him circle the SUV. "Something tells me we won't be waiting long."

* * *

The BAU had been given hotel rooms for the case in the same hotel as the gala to keep them as close to the action as possible. So, with the Friday-night gala only hours away, Emily and JJ had been allowed to spend the time getting ready. So JJ was currently puttering around Emily's hotel room as they prepared for the evening. Still, they weren't without their duty and Emily sighed as her phone rang, recognizing the number that flashed on the screen.

"Prentiss."

JJ poked her head out of the bathroom, mascara brush in her hand.

"_Congresswoman Woods_."

Emily cursed. "How long?"

"_A few hours according to the ME_."

"Where?"

"_At home._"

It went without saying that this time, their UNSUB had kept the message much more subtle. "JJ and I are on our way."

"_Dave, Morgan and I are here._" He was telling her they were covered and she and JJ could stay right where they were. "_We'll be by at 6:30 to brief you ladies before we go into the gala_."

She didn't like that idea, but he was her boss and Emily wanted the time to get ready. If she was going to face her mother, she needed to look better than her best. "How?"

"_No shots, no stab wounds, no ligature marks. We'll know more once they do the autopsy and tox report_."

"You think it's poison?"

She heard him sigh and press a few buttons. Speakerphone. "_Poison is one option_."

"_The point is that he's changing MO,_" Derek's voice came through the phone.

"Poisoning isn't usually a man's crime," she said, waving JJ back into the bathroom.

"_An accomplice?_" Dave sounded pessimistic.

"Suicide?" Emily shot back.

"_We all doubt it,_" Hotch responded. Emily could picture him holding the phone with his free hand on his hip. It was almost a BAU pose. "_But assuming this isn't murder, there's nothing out of place_."

"Congresswoman Woods had people over all the time for meetings. She preferred it," Emily said. "That list is going to be long."

"_What about switching the MO to try and throw us off. We already know they're connected,"_ Derek offered.

Emily nodded in consideration. "Logical connection."

"_We're going to have to stick to Congressman Bentley_," Derek grumbled.

Emily sighed. "He's still insisting on coming?"

"_Of course_," Hotch replied.

"_Rossi and I are picking him up when we're done here,_" Derek interjected.

She blew out a sarcastic breath. "Excellent."

* * *

**_This was half written. It's the only reason this is up. I'm so swamped it's not funny. Seriously. Stress breakdowns and everything. No funs!_**

**_Reviews are better than candy, cookies, chocolate and everything else sweet and sugary._**


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER SIX**

The gala was beautiful. As a general rule, Hotch hated all of the money events like this poured into decorations when they could use it for exactly the reason they existed, but even he easily admitted that it was beautifully and tastefully done. He found his eye wandering around the place, taking in all of the people, all of the colours, all of the dresses. Washington's political crowd did know how to make a statement and knew how to polish themselves to the nines.

But, he would fully admit, no one looked as fantastic as the woman on his arm. He'd gotten lucky as they'd all gathered to make the trek down to the gala. Emily had accepted with a large smile when he offered his arm. She herself looked absolutely stunning, dressed in a blue that darkened both of her hair and eyes and emphasized the red of her mouth. He'd caught her gaze in the reflective metal of the elevator and the little spark that flashed through her eyes told him that she'd noticed the rather long once over he'd given her.

Their relationship, whatever that meant, had stalled with the case. It didn't surprise him, but it didn't exactly make him happy either. He really did like her and he really did like spending time with her. He liked the idea of having to take care of her through her nightmares. There had been little things throughout the case that had come up – the fact that she had skeletons in her closet, the idea that she knew how to play the game with the PI – but it had been a long time since he'd had a chance to see her outside of the agent persona.

"They always go all out for this night."

Her voice was low and it made him shiver. "It does look beautiful."

The theme was Exotica, the decorations as close to a rainforest as they could get. Greens, blues, reds and yellows adorned the walls, fabrics draped over tables and pillars. Plants were scattered about, some of them for decoration, some of them creating clandestine corners and he found his mind inappropriately wandering to what could possibly happen in those clandestine corners.

"_Found him_."

Derek's voice in his ear snapped him quickly back to the present. They'd all entered separately, in twos, but separately. Reid and Derek must have been the first ones to spot Congressman Bentley. "Keep him close."

Emily's back had stiffed under his hand and he knew they were both aware that they had a job to do. It was unfortunate to make such a realization, but it was important nonetheless. They had to make sure every single politician in attendance made it back to their homes alive. And Congressman Bentley was their top priority.

"_First hour is ours_."

He smiled at Emily as Derek's voice came through their earphones. She smiled back, slightly shy for a moment. "Shall we find our table?"

Though they were working the dinner and ball following, they'd been designated tables around the room to better cover the entirety of the politicians and guests in attendance. Hotch was surprised when Emily let out a very un-Agent Prentiss squeal and squeezed his arm rather tightly. Then she was basically dragging him across the room to a table where two men sat, the rest of the table empty. He almost stumbled over himself as he followed her, part of him nevertheless curious as to what had her grinning so widely. He found himself hoping it wasn't the men.

He was wrong.

--

Emily hadn't expected to see her brothers in attendance. They, like her, preferred to avoid as many of these politically motivated galas as they possibly could. "You could have told me you were going to be here!"

"Hello to you too."

She simply grinned at her older brother. Bradley was three years her senior, but because of the way her parents had been moved around throughout their childhoods, Emily was close with both him and Anthony. Anthony was four years younger than Emily, a virtual accident. "Why didn't you tell me? You always tell me when you boys are in Washington."

Anthony shrugged his broad shoulders. "Didn't think much of it."

Bradley snorted in laughter. "Please. You made me leave the message on her machine."

"Machine? At home?"

"Please don't tell me we left it on someone else's machine! It was definitely your voice, definitely your name," Anthony groaned.

Emily rolled her eyes. She never understood what made Anthony so melodramatic. "It could be mine? I haven't been home in a few days."

"Bunny, you work too hard," Bradley said, worry creasing his forehead.

She blew out a breath. "You don't have to tell me. The fact that I'm here tells me I work too much."

Bradley narrowed his eyes. "Why _are_ you here? Isn't this the type of thing you avoid? Mother is supposed to be here."

"I didn't even think about her." Her hands tightened on Hotch's arm unconsciously. She'd completely forgotten he was even there. His hand coming up to pry her fingers into a looser grip was her wake up call. "Oh my gosh! I'm so rude."

Hotch smiled at her indulgently.

"Brad, Tony, meet my supervisor, SSA Aaron Hotchner. Hotch, my older brother Bradley and my younger brother Anthony." She allowed him to take his arm back as he shook her brothers' hands, then subconsciously threaded her arm through his again. It was a comfortable feeling, having her arm in his, and it gave a better picture to those watching. Not to mention she was less likely to get hit on for the next hour or so if the world knew she was there with someone else. So what if she was using Hotch as a scapegoat?

"Pleasure," Hotch said. "Emily doesn't talk about you."

"That's probably for the best," Bradley chuckled. "Supervisor? At the FBI?"

Emily shot him a look. This was neither the time nor the place to address why she was all but clinging to her boss. And that was something she herself would have to dissect at another time.

"We're here on business," Hotch spoke up.

Emily shot him a look. She didn't talk to her brothers about work, just like she didn't talk to work about her brothers. "Technically."

"Business? What's going on?" Anthony asked, immediately sitting up straighter.

"Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about," Emily replied, ruffling his hair. She allowed Hotch to lead her to a nearby chair, the one beside Bradley. He took her other side. "But we are here on a case."

"Well doesn't take the fun out of everything," Anthony said. "I was hoping to get you absolutely hammered and watch old men feel you up."

Emily glared as she felt Hotch reach for her hand. She glanced down at it briefly, feeling her cheeks flush. They'd been in closer than holding hands in previous weeks because of her nightmares, but never anything that felt as intimate. The rare times they were cuddled together in someone's bed it was because she was absolutely terrified and simply taking comfort where it was offered. This was a different level and, for the moment, she wasn't sure what to do with it.

Because if she was honest with herself, she wanted more. There had been a few mornings she'd woken to his arms around her and found herself wondering if that was how it could be. It was a disconcerting feeling to discover she was feeling something more than comfort from her boss. They didn't say anything about their cuddle-stands afterwards, and he'd never brought it up in anything more than a glance to check if she was okay or the odd question as to her well being when they got into the office. He seemed to unconsciously understand that she needed the space of personal and professional, especially when it came to her nightmares.

She looked up at him, catching his eye at the same moment he squeezed her hand. Her smile was small and shy, but genuine as she twisted her hand so she could link their fingers. It happened under the table, where no one could see, but Emily knew this was a different step in their relationship.

* * *

**_I wasn't supposed to do this! I was supposed to be working on a paper! _**

**_But then I watched this night's episode and the Emily-focus and I didn't really get a choice. Ironically, her little backstory fits almost perfectly into what I've got planned for her. I love it. It makes me grin. And that's all I'm going to say about that!_**

**_I'm scurrying off to write the next chapter and bring what I have written for the next like 3 or 4 chapters into what I've actually got written for the first 6! One order of drama coming right up!_**


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

Hours later, once dinner had finished, Emily found herself leaning back in her chair, trying to catch her breath. She'd forgotten how hilarious her brothers could be, especially together. She adored spending time with them and found herself making a mental note to go visit, take some time off like everyone had been suggesting since she'd shot Cademon. Bradley had just finished telling a rather hilarious anecdote about his youngest son dragging his daughter into their parents' room to explain what Mommy and Daddy were doing in bed while Mommy was making hurt noises. Emily was absolutely killing herself.

Finally, there was a lull. People had already gotten up on the dance floor, the orchestra had started up almost an hour before, and people were slowly taking advantage of it. Emily often chalked this part up to the alcohol, but when Bradley held out his hand, she knew she was in for it.

"Dance?"

She knew there was no way she could say no to him. So she stood, squeezing Hotch's hand as she did. Then she was being whirled out onto the floor. She and Bradley had taken dance lessons together and had always been easy partners. She knew he was showing off. Even with a wife and kids at home, these political galas were every guy's playground.

"Explain something to me, Bunny."

"If its case related, I can't do that," she answered even as she smiled.

Bradley shook his head. "Not about information, anyway. You and your boss seem pretty chummy."

Emily sighed. "He's been helping me through a tough time," she replied quietly. "I... even I'm not sure of..."

"Anything else, got it. You should think about it."

"Think about it?" Emily asked. "You do know that it's blatantly against FBI fraternization code, right?"

"When have you ever followed the rules?" Bradley inquired with a wide grin.

"I'm not sure this is one I want to break," she admitted.

"The FBI's just a job, Em."

"But the BAU isn't," she replied. "I can't do that to him and I'm not sure I'm willing to do that to me. I worked hard to get into the BAU, Brad."

"And you'll work just as hard with something else," he said. "A job is just a job."

Emily sighed. Her brothers had never understood her drive to get into the FBI. She'd never mentioned it to anyone. Even her family didn't know why on earth she had chosen law enforcement to begin with. Because much like her colleagues, Emily had something that drove her, an event and a feeling. She worked in the BAU for a reason.

"The BAU isn't like that," she said, not looking at him. "It's more than a job. It's a lifestyle."

"Wouldn't it be worth it to start a different kind of lifestyle?"

She blew out a breath. "I don't know."

* * *

Hotch watched Emily dance with her brother, a small shot of envy racing through his blood. It was stupid, really, because Bradley was her brother. There was nothing harmful in Emily dancing with her brother. In fact, if the way their hands had stayed and strayed together was any indication, dancing with her brother was really the best place for her. While he knew the team would probably think nothing of the two of them waltzing across the floor, he didn't want to put pressure on her when it really felt they were barely scratching the surface of even addressing what was happening between them.

Eventually, Bradley passed Emily off to another man who asked to cut in and Hotch had to restrain himself from following suit. He could watch from here, had a much better angle on the entirety of the room. And whatever was going on between them could come between him and the job. Couldn't come between _them_ and the job. Bradley wandered back to the table, taking a seat.

"I expected that to be you."

Hotch managed to keep his face calm. The last thing he needed to do was set off one of Emily's brothers. "Oh?"

Bradley hummed and nodded. "She's absolutely smitten with you."

"Smitten?" Anthony piped up, leaning forward to hear the conversation. "What? Did we move time and place without me knowing? Who says 'smitten'?"

"I do," Bradley shot back and Hotch vaguely wondered if they knew they were both over the age of thirty.

"Whose smitten?"

Hotch groaned. The last thing he needed – well, Emily's brothers aside – was Derek sticking his nose into this particular conversation. "Bentley?"

"Rossi and JJ," Derek responded. "Who knows where Reid went. Em?"

All three heads turned to the dance floor.

"You've got to be kidding me," Bradley murmured.

"What?" Derek asked, immediately on alert.

Hotch was on alert too, an automatic response along with searching out Emily's dark head. He didn't recognize the brunette man standing with her. She didn't look happy. "Who is that?"

"Max Smith," Anthony spoke up, folding his arms across his chest. "They have... a history."

Hotch's eyes narrowed. "What kind of history?"

"Not a good one," Bradley answered. "I forgot."

"Forgot what?"

Hotch put his arm in front of Derek. The younger agent looked about ready to go and attack this representation of Emily's past. "Forgot what?"

"He was just elected. Maryland."

Derek and Hotch exchanged a look. "Call Garcia." He was already moving towards Emily. They were all more on edge about Emily and had been probably for too long. He'd seen Smith grasp Emily's arm. He wasn't going to keep standing back and watching her get hurt. It was a lesson he'd learned oh-so-well.

"You lost the right to call me that when you left me broken and battered in a deserted New Haven alley," he heard Emily hiss as she yanked her arm from Smith's grip.

He managed to catch her elbow before it impacted with his gut. He hated the way she whipped about tensely to face him before relaxing. "Emily."

"Sorry Hotch," she replied. "I didn't know you were there."

He stepped closer, his shoulder brushing against her bare shoulder, acting as both support and something more. He didn't like Max Smith. He didn't like him on principle, and he didn't like him because of the way the congressman had grabbed Emily's arm. "Everything okay?"

"Fine," she said, though her eyes screamed otherwise.

He wasn't used to reading her so easily. His hand came up to her back, resisting the urge to wrap his hand around her opposite hip. He didn't have that kind of tacit permission, no matter how much he wanted to. "Aaron Hotchner."

"Max Smith, congressman from Maryland."

"I've heard. Congratulations on your election." He hoped the underlying distaste wasn't obvious in his voice as he shook the man's hand. Meanwhile, his thumb stroked Emily's back where it rested against her spine. It was the same touch that calmed her through so many nightmares, but on a smaller scale.

"Thank you," Smith replied, though Hotch could tell his smile was the one he put on for politics. He didn't care. What mattered here was Emily and she wasn't relaxing. Something about this guy set her off.

But before any of them to could do or say anything else, before he could whisk her away, Dave came jogging up. "Hotch, you're going to want to see this."

He didn't have to look to Emily to know she'd be coming with, just absently grasped her hand as they wove through the milling crowds. Absently, he felt Emily relax with every step they took away from Max Smith. What he definitely noticed were the security officers blocking off the hallway to the bathrooms. Hotch arched an eyebrow at Dave.

"Aide found him," Dave offered as they all stepped into the men's bathroom. The place was empty except for a foot trailing out of one of the stalls.

"Who is it?" Emily inquired, leading the way into the room.

Hotch tried not to watch the way her hips swayed because of her heels, or the way the skirt fell so flatteringly across her rear. "Do we want to know?" he asked under his breath.

"Congressman Gerald Bentley," Dave said, shooting at look at Hotch.

Emily let out a heavy breath as she stopped, hands falling to her hips. Hotch wondered if she was even aware that she was standing in a men's bathroom in formalwear and heels looking at a dead body. "Single shot to the forehead. Is there nothing sacred anymore?"

"Apparently a guy can't even use the can without getting shot," Derek agreed, slipping into the room. "Aide's pretty shaken up. What's the call, Hotch?"

There was only one thing they could do. "Lock the place down."


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

It was hours later when they could all head back to their rooms. Emily sighed as she heard the door close behind her. She wasn't meant to do eight million interviews in formal heels. Or, at least, it had been a long time since she'd slipped a pair on and her feet weren't as used to them as they used to be. She groaned in relief as she kicked them off and flopped down onto the extremely comfortable mattress. For once, the FBI had splurged for this case to put them up in the same hotel as the politicians in town. Emily was grateful.

Her next groan was of annoyance as the knock sounded on the door. She stood and almost stumbled, not used to bare feet. She started for the door. "Derek Morgan if that's you I swear- Oh."

It wasn't Derek standing on the other side, but Max Smith. And he didn't look happy.

"What are you doing here?" The venom in her voice was more than detectable. For the first time in a long time she wished she hadn't unstrapped the gun from her thigh when she'd stepped in the room.

He held out a scrap of paper with a dark look. She took it, reading it quickly, then reading it again, hoping upon hope she'd misread the words.

_I know what happened in that back New Haven alley. You can't just sweep things under the rug. And now you're going to pay for it. You're next._

Emily dropped the paper, her hand coming up to cover her mouth as it fluttered to the floor. She looked up at Max, her eyes wide. "What is this?"

"You don't know?"

"Of course not," she snapped. "Why would I know what this is about?"

"I figured it came from you."

She slapped him on reflex. Why did he always bring out the worst in her? "Of course I didn't. I was downstairs all night. How am I supposed to get a note like this to you when I'm too busy trying to protect everyone down there."

"And now you get to protect me."

"Oh, no," Emily said, raising a hand. "I don't care what happens to you so long as _no one_ knows about this."

"See, you don't want it coming out any more than I do."

Emily glared. "Not exactly. I'd rather not pull up those memories. It has nothing to do with saving your sorry excuse for an ass, Smith."

"You wound me."

The door across the hall opened and she saw Hotch's confused head poke out. "Emily?"

Emily found herself struggling to put on her agent mask. "I think we've found our next target."

He arched an eyebrow. "Next target?"

"Here," she cursed her shaking hands as she reached down to pick up the letter.

Hotch was across the hall in two broad steps, between her and Max before either of the other two realized it. She was thankful for it. "What does he mean?"

Emily met Max's eyes, part of her pleading with him not to tell. Yet, she knew that it was over now, that there was no way she could hide from the event she credited with her drive to get into the FBI. And her drive to be here, to stay here.

"With all due respect, Agent Hotchner, it's private."

She closed her eyes, trying not to curse the idiot that was Max Smith.

Hotch's eyes were cold as he glanced at Max, then sympathetic as they met hers. "With all due respect, Congressman, we don't have a choice."

* * *

Hotch didn't like the idea of having to pry into Max Smith's life. He didn't like the idea in the slightest. He didn't want anything to do with the man. He felt greasy and Hotch had not been impressed with the way he'd man-handled Emily earlier in the evening. But he'd made the call to Garcia a few hours ago as he sent Derek and Dave to sit with the man. Emily was in her room with her brothers and Hotch had sent JJ over not a few minutes before. Reid had followed and Hotch was glad for a few minutes to himself.

He'd hoped he wouldn't have to deal with Max Smith. The protective and possessive instincts that had risen up at the way Smith had grabbed Emily's arm weren't necessarily new. Their intensity, however, was. This was the first time they'd been in a situation where Hotch had felt she was being seriously threatened. More than that, this was the first time he'd seen another man put his hand on her that wasn't a member of the team. Actually, he hated the idea of another man putting a potentially harmful hand on her period.

Garcia was looking diligently through everything she could find. She'd been granted top level access for the time being and she'd taken to it like a fish to water. Information was Penelope Garcia's best friend in the whole wide world. There were definitely days Hotch wondered what the team would do without the supreme powers she held in just her fingers,

He made his way through the halls of Quantico to Garcia's lair, responding to the desperate call she'd placed to him not a few hours before. She had something, but she didn't want to tell him over the phone. Apparently, this was big enough that it had to be done in person. He knocked on her door. "Garcia?"

"Sir, I think I found what our UNSUB could be using to blackmail Congressman Smith," Garcia said to Hotch as she looked up from her walls of computer screens. He'd made the trip back especially for this information, because Garcia had felt uncomfortable passing over any other electronic pathways.

"Okay," Hotch said, his arm coming across his chest while he touched his other hand to his mouth. He watched Garcia tap a few keys and a police report popped up.

"Apparently there was an assault charge filed in '93. Charges were dropped before the trial. Paper's never caught wind of it."

He didn't like the down and depressed tone of Garcia's voice. "Who was the victim?"

Garcia raised her pen and pointed at the name.

Hotch felt his heart leap into his throat.


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER NINE**

Hotch wasn't surprised to find JJ and Reid sitting along with Emily and her brothers in the hotel room she'd been designated. Since it has been Smith that was threatened, Emily hadn't been allowed to work the case. Now that he knew why, Hotch was glad she wasn't working it. Her team supported her, her family stood by her side. He didn't want to have to do this.

"Hey Hotch," Reid greeted.

He watched Emily's smile drop as she took in his face. He really didn't want to have to do this. "I need the room."

His eyes stayed fixed on hers as the occupants left, both Bradley and Anthony stopping to kiss her head, murmuring something to her in Arabic. Hotch let it go as he tapped the file on the palm of his hand. Her eyes were fearful as they locked on the folder. "Is that..."

He held it out to her. "I'm sorry."

She took the file, but didn't open it, just traced her fingers around the edges, over the name on the tab. It was Smith's file, but her face told him she knew exactly what the contents of that file were and what other names would be in it. "Who else knows?"

"Garcia," he answered promptly. He wanted to go to her side, to hold her close, to tell her that this didn't change anything between them, but he knew it wouldn't sit well with her. So he stood there, his hands crossed over his chest, hoping upon hope that she would come to him. By now he liked to believe that they'd built that type of relationship. He hoped she knew she could come to him with anything. Though, he conceded, this was bigger than he'd ever anticipated. And he was sure the Smith family wasn't the only one that had wanted to sweep things under the rug.

Her fingers continued to trace along the edge of the file. "Did you read it?"

"No," Hotch admitted honestly. He hadn't been able to pry into her life like that. He wanted to hear it from her. He hoped to hear it from her. "But I have to know, Emily."

She went to cross her legs beneath her and he made sure to keep his eyes focused on hers and not the way her dress pulled up. She shifted aside, laying the file in her lap. He moved with her unstated request. His jacket and tie had been left in his own hotel room just next door and he found himself rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt for the first time in a long time. Her knee rested against his thigh as her fingers continued to trace random patterns over the top of it.

"I was a sophomore at Yale when I met Max," she began quietly. "He was in one of my language classes, Spanish, I think, and he sat beside me that first day. We hit it off, started dating around Christmas time. He was great, charming, kind, funny and my parents approved because they knew his parents. Everybody seemed perfectly happy and I was happy."

His hand reached out to take one of hers, to clasp it in both of his. She hadn't lifted her head to look at him since starting her story, just stared at the beige file as if it was the most painful scar.

She sniffled. "He did an internship in the governor's office in New York, one summer, so we found an apartment. I did some brief work in the lowest echelons of the United Nations, with my mother as an ambassador and all... We didn't see each other much, but when we did... well..."

Hotch didn't really want to hear about Emily's sexual history. "You got pregnant."

"You peeked," she accused, letting out a choked guffaw.

He shook his head. "I promise I didn't." He paused. "What happened next, Emily?"

"His parents were livid, my parents were disappointed. Max and I didn't know what to do. Then it all started to fall apart around me. His parents started pressuring him to end it with me or end the baby's life. I didn't know what to do, so I kept putting off the abortion... I couldn't do that to a child. I didn't want that kind of mark on my past."

The large neon sign told him to back off, but he couldn't let her do this to herself without knowing he was beside her one hundred percent. She deserved at least that. So he moved the file, tossing it on the floor as he pulled her across his lap, arranging her so her head pillowed on his shoulder, her legs swung over both of his. One of his hands rested on her hip, keeping her in place, the other wrapped tenderly around her shoulders, cradling her against him. "I'm here."

"We were out with friends one night. I hadn't started showing and we hadn't told anyone." Tears were obvious in her voice now and he could feel them starting to create a wet spot on his shirt. "He got really, really drunk. When I finally convinced him it was time to go home, we left and got into another fight about the baby on the way home." Her hand curled into a fist in his shirt as she raised her head to take in his sympathetic eyes. "He was angry, beat me and left me in an alley in New Haven. My best friend Trina found me taking a short cut back to her apartment. By the time she got me to the hospital I already knew I'd lost the baby."

Hotch kissed her forehead tenderly. "Then what?"

"My friends wanted me to press charges. My parents wanted me to keep quiet. I wanted justice for my baby. I reported it to the police, every damned word. The Smiths swept it under the rug, settled out of court with the judge. When I filed the civil suit, they paid the money and moved on. I had no closure, no way for them to see what it had done to me."

He pulled her impossibly closer, stroking her back. "I'm so sorry, Emily."

Her eyes were determined and hard when she looked up at him. "It's why I do this job," she said candidly. "It's why I catch these killers. It's why I hate politics. Politics undermines justice, makes people forget the value of a human life. Both of those are incredibly important to me."

"You're one hell of an agent Emily Prentiss," he promised her passionately. Hotch had always been a firm believer in the idea of something driving each and every one of his agents. There was something about them, whether it was in their personality, their genetic makeup or in their pasts that made them do the work they did. Up until his divorce, he did it for his family. Dave did it for those three children who had lost their parents one terrible Christmas Eve. Derek did the job for the same reason Emily did, to find justice, to give closure, to catch the villains.

Emily nodded her head against his chest. "Is that Max's secret? That he beat me? That he killed our child because I wouldn't get an abortion?"

"Yes," he replied, lips against her forehead. "You can't work this case anymore, Emily."

"Hotch, this isn't the first time I've been personally involved."

"I know," he promised, eyes flashing with the memory of her in that darkened hotel room from Ohio. "But this is more than that. You cannot work the case."

"I can't just sit around," she replied indignantly. "You can't expect me to just sit here when that information could get out. I can't go through that pain again, Hotch. It's my secret, it's my story to tell, no one else's. Not Max and certainly not our UNSUB."

He nodded his agreement. "Honey, you might want to consider telling JJ. She's going to need to know."

Emily shivered against him. "Does it have to be now? Can it wait?"

"It can't wait long," he replied. "Our UNSUB will send it straight to the papers if we wait too long."

She nodded her dark head. "Just not tonight," she whispered.

"Not tonight," he agreed softly. He sat there holding her until he realized she'd drifted off to sleep. He shifted her carefully, not wanting to wake her. She was peaceful in sleep and he had a feeling she was in for a rough enough night as it was. Just as he was slipping his arm out from beneath her, she caught his wrist, sleepy eyes opening.

"Stay?"

He sighed. There was no way he was going to deny her anything tonight. It had taken a lot of courage for her to share with him such a personal and traumatizing event. "I have to talk to the others first, sweetheart."

She nodded sleepily, then curled herself into a ball. He kissed her temple before heading back out of the room. He deliberately left the file behind. Everyone had gathered at the end of the hall in some sort of loose circle and conversation died as he approached. "I'm calling it a night."

"Is Emily okay?" Bradley asked immediately, stepping forward.

"She's asleep," Hotch replied honestly. "Emotionally drained. Involved."

JJ gasped. "Involved? She has something to do with why Congressman Smith is being targeted?"

"Yes," he answered simply. She'd made it clear that it was her story to tell and hers alone. He wasn't about to step on her toes like that. "Find Morgan and Rossi. The four of you are going to do paired shifts outside Max Smith's room."

"What about Emily?" Anthony asked. "Is he going to come after her?"

Hotch shook his head. "It's doubtful. She'll be fine."

The Prentiss brothers exchanged a look before Anthony nodded. Bradley spoke. "Take care of her, Agent Hotchner."

Hotch nodded once, biting his cheeks against the smile that threatened to quirk his lips. "I will."

He made his way back to her hotel room, pausing over her sleeping form for just a moment. Apparently, while he'd been gone, she'd dug up her pink plaid pyjama pants and black tank and removed her dress. She looked comfortable and young asleep in bed like that.

"Hotch?"

"It's me," he promised, stripping his pants off and laying them over her desk chair. His shirt went next and then he was climbing in beside her, slipping an arm over her stomach and pulling her tighter to his body. Emily shifted, turning over and burrowing as close as she could. Hotch sighed, preparing himself for the long night that was sleeping next to Emily.

Because there was no way he was escaping nightmares tonight.


	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER TEN**

When Emily woke the next morning, the first thing she became aware of was the movement of her pillow. Next was the hand splayed across her back, the fingertips dipping into the waistband of her pants. Her head was tucked under someone's chin and in her nightmare induced haze it took her brain a few minutes to remember that she wasn't in New Haven, she wasn't living a nightmare. The arms around her were of a different man, a man that had done nothing but try to protect her for the last few months. She found a smile slowly stretching across her face as she absorbed that he had slept with her, the same way he had when she'd had nightmares in the past.

She heard his breathing change and looked up at him, unsurprised to find blurry brown eyes. She managed a smile. "Good morning."

"How are you feeling?" he asked immediately, fingers stroking the bottom of her spine.

"Raw," she admitted. "Vulnerable." She rolled to her back, ignoring the expanse of stomach that was exposed.

But he couldn't. His eyes darted down, fingers beginning to trace over the scar on her hip. Her body tensed, but slowly relaxed. "You shouldn't," he told her quietly.

She laughed slightly, mirthlessly. "I had to tell you my deepest, darkest secret for a case," she said.

His fingers continued gently tracing her scar. "I don't think anything less of you, Emily," he replied finally. "I don't think you're any weaker because he hit you. I don't think you're a stupid woman for staying with him. I think what you experienced makes you who you are and that, as terrible as it was, it has made you so strong."

"Strength didn't help my baby, Hotch. It doesn't change that I couldn't save my child," Emily said softly.

A knock stopped their conversation and a quick discussion through a look had Hotch pushing himself out from under the warmth of the blankets and Emily bit her lip against the whimper of the loss of his body heat. Hotch pulled open the door and Derek, JJ and Reid wandered in.

"How are you doin' Princess?" Derek asked coming to sit on the side of her bed.

Emily ran a hand through her hair as she sat up, holding the sheet to her chest. "Okay," she replied. "Starting to wonder if I'm going to catch a break any time soon."

JJ hugged her best friend sympathetically. "How about some breakfast?"

"I'm buying," Derek jumped in immediately. "And somewhere other than the restaurant in the lobby. Their coffee is crap."

Emily found herself inexplicably looking to Hotch.

"Go," he urged. "Dave and I'll call to see where you guys ended up."

So she looked back to Derek. "Give me five minutes to get dressed?"

* * *

Dave had seen the majority of the team head off down the hall and couldn't help reflecting on their solidarity. Emily had been between JJ and Derek, with Reid managing to walk backwards in order to keep up with the discussion. Dave took the opportunity of the absence of the rest of the team to knock on Emily's hotel room door.

Hotch sighed when he opened the door and saw him on the other side. "Morning, Dave."

Dave didn't both with the preliminaries. "How is she?"

Hotch pulled open the door wide to let him in. "Depends."

"Can she do this case," Dave clarified. "And you know I'm not talking about protocol. Is she emotionally capable of staying here?"

"She thinks so. She fought me when I told her she couldn't work the case," Hotch answered.

Dave laughed slightly, though the sound had no mirth or amusement in it. "She's going to be just fine."

Hotch dropped to the bed with a heavy sigh. "I don't care whether or not she _will_ be fine. I care if she is. And she's not."

"So order her back to Quantico," Dave said with a shrug.

"If only it was that easy," Hotch replied.

"Emily won't disobey a direct order."

But that really wasn't the problem. It had everything to do with the shifts that had occurred between Hotch and Emily. New York had been the first thing to force their relationship to shift. She was the one who kept her eye on him, the one that read up about the ear condition he was facing. Then, Colorado had done the same on Hotch's side. Dave couldn't remember seeing the other man so torn up as he listened to Emily's grunts of pain on the other end of the wire. Then Ohio had happened and there was no question, no doubt in anyone's mind as to the only thing that could come next. Well, everyone but the two people at the center of it all.

"I can't do that," Hotch said quietly, almost startling Dave out of his reflection. "This is… She needs to be here. She needs to do this."

They all had those cases, the ones that haunted them, the ones where they needed to see the case through to the end to solve something in their past or reaffirm a piece of themselves. His had been Indianapolis. If this was Emily's he'd stand beside her, just like she'd stood beside him, and let her battle out what she needed to. And the team would be there to support her through every step.

At the same time, it was almost physically painful to watch a man Dave had hand picked and bred to be one of the best in such a state. They'd all caught him before he had the chance to put on his suit and become Agent Hotchner. Instead, he was just a man, a man concerned about a woman who had become near and dear to his heart, a woman he obviously had started caring very deeply about. Dave had never seen the younger man so torn over a woman.

"We'll watch her," he said quietly. "Keep a close eye on her, make sure she's not going to lose it."

Hotch sighed. "I'd rather she did lose it," he admitted. "What she's been through…. I can't imagine going through it and coming out on the other side like she has. And now someone's threatening to expose it all in some twisted form of revenge."

"What happened?"

Hotch stood, heading to his ready bag. When he'd seen the file, when she'd told him all about her past, there had been no doubt she wouldn't be staying alone. So he'd moved his bad for easier access in the morning. "You know I can't say anything. It's her story to tell and she knows she has to at least tell some of the rest of the team. But I won't break her confidence."

Dave wasn't' surprised by Hotch's passionate defence of their dark-haired teammate. He sighed. "I'm going to go find them. Make sure you give someone a call and eat. Emily'll flip if she finds out you're not taking care of yourself."

The younger man nodded with an affectionate smile. It sounded like Emily to a tee. "Thanks Dave."

Dave paused at the door. "Hotch?"

He waited until the unit chief met his eyes before continuing.

"I'm glad she's got you to take care of her." He hoped the approval of whatever was growing between his colleagues showed in his eyes.

And by the way Hotch nodded slowly, Dave had a feeling his sentiment had been understood. Now it was just a matter of seeing if Hotch would act on his feelings. Dave certainly hoped so. If anyone could break through Hotch's walls it was Emily and if the conversation they'd just had was any indication, she'd already started dismantling it.


	11. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

Detective Bellum sat in awe as he listened to Agent Prentiss' story. But really, it wasn't the story that caught his attention, as heart-breaking as it was, but the way her supervisor stood behind her the entire time, his hands resting on her shoulders.

Hotchner took over when Prentiss sagged in her seat, story finished, though his hands stayed securely on her shoulders. "JJ, take Reid and see if our UNSUB had any contact within the last twenty-four hours. Dave, Morgan, we're going to need some sort of protection detail for Congressman Smith. Detective Bellum, do you think you can spare some men to do shifts with my agents?"

Bellum nodded his agreement. He could reassign a few officers, call in a few favours, even if he didn't like the Congressman. It was their job.

Hotchner still held onto Prentiss' shoulders. "I want to talk to that PI again."

"Agent Jareau?"

Bellum looked over at his partner, the same as the rest of the occupants of the room.

"You asked me to tell you when the Bentley shooting hit the news."

Bellum watched almost in awe as the entire demeanour of the room shifted. With a quick look exchanged between Jareau and Hotchner and a quick nod from Hotchner, things changed.

"Emily, go with Reid to Bentley's place. JJ-"

"Give me three hours," she said, already pulling out her Blackberry. "And chocolate."

"Detective, I could use your help to interview the PI."

And as Bellum nodded his agreement, the agents started to scatter. Prentiss and Hotchner didn't move and Bellum watched the adoration fall over Hotchner's face. Bellum continued to watch as he murmured something to the dark-haired woman, then leaned down and kissed the top of her head. Bellum looked away then, so as not to be caught watching and to give them as much privacy as he could for the obviously intimate moment.

"Ready, Detective?"

He followed the agent out of the room, unsurprised when he took his time in leaving. Meanwhile, Bellum ensured his partner would handle the assignment of Congressman Smith's security detail. It wasn't until he and Hotchner were in his car heading to the PIs office that Bellum commented on the past hour.

"How long have you and Agent Prentiss been together?" He felt his blood run cold as he glanced over at the glare Hotchner sent him.

"Not that it's any of your business, Detective, but we're not together," he replied.

"With all due respect, Agent Hotchner, there's something there. Unless you're as overprotective and affectionate with the rest of your agents as you are with Agent Prentiss." Bellum hadn't expected to hit a nerve but it was obvious that he had. By the stoic way the SSAIC had held himself, despite the unfortunately obvious bags under his eyes, Bellum probably should have expected it and mentally scolded himself.

"Agent Prentiss and I are colleagues and friends. She's going through a difficult time."

Bellum filled in the blanks with ease. If Hotchner wanted to live in denial, Bellum wasn't totally sure he wanted to be the one to burst the other man's comfortable bubble. "She's exceptionally strong."

"She is."

Bellum wasn't immune to the guarded tone in the agent's voice. He forced a shrug. "She must be someone special to be able to go through that and tell the story not once but twice."

"Detective, I'd like to focus on the case."

"Of course," Bellum agreed. "What do we know about the PI?"

* * *

"I can tell you his computer _wasn't_ the one to access the congressman's file yesterday," Garcia said to Derek over the phone.

The African-American man ran a hand over his head. For Emily's sake, he'd hoped the case would be solved quickly. It didn't seem like it now. "Did you trace it?"

"IP address links it to the library at Shaw-Howard University. And I have more bad news."

Derek blew out a breath. "Lay it on me, Mama."

"Hotch asked me to flag Slime Guy's credit cards. According to a bank statement and video surveillance, he was making a deposit in Falls Church around the time Congressman Bentley's supposed time of death."

He swore under his breath.

"How is she, Derek? Really."

There was no way he'd be able to hide from Garcia and he hated any form of lying to her. "She's hanging tight. Rossi says not so good."

"My poor gum drop! First Colorado, then Ohio and now this! Why can't UNSUBs give her a break?"

"She's got Hotch, Baby Girl. He won't leave her to do this alone."

"Oh?" Garcia's voice sounded piqued with interest, a complete twist from the upset tones from seconds before. "Define 'won't leave her alone'."

"He stayed in her room last night. Was reluctant to see her leave with us this morning. And that's not even touching on his reaction to her telling us the story again."

"It's about time," Garcia said, and Derek could almost see her leaning back in her chair, satisfaction written in every line of her body.

"Mama, she's struggling. And he was there for her in Ohio. It's perfectly understandable that she'd turn to him first."

She let out a sound of displeasure. "As if you haven't seen our version of Clark Kent eye up Lois Lane."

"Baby Girl, you really need to stop comparing us to superheroes," Derek said, shaking his head. He'd only been trying to inject some form of realism into the conversation. A friend helping a friend was a perfectly logical explanation as to why Hotch seemed so keen on keeping a close eye on Emily.

"Ha! So you have seen it!"

Derek sighed. She wouldn't let it go and he knew it. "Of course I have. We're profilers."

She hummed her approval. "It's too bad those two are still oblivious."

Derek sighed. He didn't lie to his Baby Girl. "I don't know how much longer they're going to be oblivious."

"No!" she gasped in excitement. "Really?"

"If the way he was with her this morning is any indication... I've never seen him that open and emotional. Em brings out something in him, Garcia. Something I've never seen in my too many years of working with him."

"That's good."

Her tone was affectionate and Derek found himself smiling. They were all colleagues, but they were more than that, and though it was easier to see between most of the team with the exception of Hotch, he knew that Garcia cared just as deeply for the unit chief as she did the rest of them. Most of them were outcasts, misfits, but together, they made an unbeatable team of kids with too many issues. Sometimes it made him chuckle to realize they all had their hang ups and they were all almost different from each other.

If Hotch found solace in Emily the way he found it in Garcia, Derek certainly wasn't about to argue. Emily deserved something good in her life, someone she could rely on to pick up the pieces when she fell apart. And if he was honest with himself, Derek was glad it was Hotch.

* * *

_**Thanks to everyone who's still reviewing and still sticking with this. I'm so sorry there was such a break there. Apparently stories like this one are requiring a lot more concentration than I'd orginally thought. **_

_**Let me know what you thought of this!**_


	12. Chapter 12

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

PROMPT: The Graveyard Shift (Spongebob Squarepants)

Downtime in the BAU was a rare enough commodity, let alone a spare second to think during a case, but with Max Smith being carefully monitored by a pair of Washington's finest, Hotch found himself standing in a line for coffee just before his own guard shift with Emily. Which, much to his own surprise, meant that he actually had time to focus on his own life.

More specifically, on Emily.

Because now Dave and Bellum had both talked to him about his relationship with Emily and if he was honest with himself, though they hadn't gotten to the romantic stages yet, it was something that had definitely been in his mind. But he didn't want to push her. He wanted to make sure she had dealt with Cademon's shooting rather than simply jumping into something with him. He wanted her to make the decision because it was him and it was her, and for no other reason than that.

As he reflected on the situation standing in line for a coffee, he realized that he was at a fork in the road. He had time where it was just the two of them tonight with nothing to do but wait for something to happen. It was a perfect time to talk to her about things, even if it was during a case and under regular circumstances he'd never even think about addressing something so personal during a professional moment, but he had talked himself into it now and to turn around and chicken out... He didn't know the next time he'd want to approach the issue again.

He thanked the teenager that had prepared his coffee and Emily's, carrying them out the door and towards the hotel. He found his stomach actually flipping with butterflies. If things didn't work out, he could be in for a long night. But it was a chance he was willing to take for the chance to win over Emily Prentiss.

* * *

She'd assumed that her ties to Smith would keep her out of the guard rosters so Hotch took her completely by surprise when he passed on the news that she was going to be sitting the night shift with him, watching over Smith's room.

"Ready?"

She regarded him carefully for a minute, standing in the hallway of what had become their hotel room. Something had changed in the last few hours. They'd been apart – and naturally so – so she had absolutely no idea what had been the catalyst for the change. "Ready," she agreed, finishing the process of clipping on her gun belt. She eyed the two paper cups he carried. "Is one of those for me?"

The corners of his mouth turned upwards slightly as he held one out to her. "Of course."

She smiled her thanks, then led the way out of the room. His hand settled at the small of her back as they walked to the elevator, a touch that was by no means new but held an intensity she'd never felt from him. It made her much more aware of him walking beside her, of his recognizable scent wafting into her nose.

There were two chairs outside of Smith's room for the pair on duty and Emily and Hotch nodded at the Washington LEOs as they stood and stretched from sitting on shift for so long.

"Nothing," one officer said to update them. "Not a soul's been through here."

"Smith?" Hotch asked.

"Hasn't even poked his head out," the other officer answered. "Looks like you're in for a quiet night."

Emily found that a quiet night actually sounded good to her ears and by the look on Hotch's face, he wasn't against the idea either. She moved one of the chairs across the hall, unsurprised when Hotch did the same and settled it right next to hers, as the previous shift headed off down the hall, laughter carrying behind them.

Then, she settled in to wait out their shift.

* * *

He'd promised himself that he'd address whatever had been developing between them and with hours and hours ahead of them it was the perfect time, but he felt odd just bringing it up. She'd been fidgety, as part of him assumed she would be protecting a man that hadn't done the same for her when she'd needed it most. Plus, he wasn't sure it was something he could just bring up out of the blue.

"Hotch?"

"Emily," he replied, unconsciously injecting some of the warmth he felt for her into her name.

"Something's changed."

"Changed?"

"Yeah," she replied with a nod.

He cocked his head to the side, waiting patiently for her to continue. He heard her draw in a deep breath before she spoke.

"It's like you've made a decision," she began and he could hear the undertone of confusion in her voice through her tentative words. "You're... more focused on something. More intent and intense."

He found himself inwardly amused. She was so adorably unsure of herself and he could tell she was testing the waters. He resisted asking her the clichéd question 'like what' and instead said, "Go on."

She huffed out a breath. "I don't know... All I can see is that it's not about the case."

She was partially right. It had been the case that had opened his eyes to her, it was the case that showed him where her internal strength came from. But the foundations had been laid in Ohio in the time since Cademon's attack on her. Emily Prentiss, he'd learned was a constantly shifting contradiction. She was strong, but she needed someone to be there for her when she had her nightmares. And he'd learned something else because of this case and because of her. Life was a fragile thing. She'd lost a baby because of people who didn't seem to understand that. He could be gone in his next breath. He didn't want to be gone without getting the chance to learn about all of the little quirks that made Emily who she was.

The question was how best to let her know. He was sure part of her was aware of the shifts between them, of the changing dynamic that characterized their relationship, but he'd bet it was a subconscious part that had nothing to do with what she knew without a doubt. Another part of him argued that she had to know of his changing feelings for her. They'd been sharing a bed because of her nightmares and she had to know that he wouldn't do that for just anyone.

He met her gaze, for once, letting down all the walls he could, allowing her to see what he was so intent on, what he'd decided he wanted. He was sure the message was clear:

He wanted her.

--

Emily sucked in a gasp. It was all clearly there, showing in his face. She felt surprise and heat war through her veins. This man, this intense, passionate, caring man, wanted her. And she knew it wasn't just want that kept him close. She wasn't a damsel in distress that he could rescue and she wasn't a fragile flower that needed protection either. He knew that. He'd seen that part of her and while she hated weakness, he'd shown her that a little bit of weakness wasn't so bad. He'd shown her that someone else could pick up the proverbial pieces without compromising the rest of who she was.

"Hotch," she whispered, unsteady and unsure.

He took her hand. "I wanted you to know," he told her, his voice serious, but gentle. "There's no pressure."

Emily blew out a breath and turned away, but kept her hand in his. There was so much to consider, so much to think about. She wasn't about to just dive into things with him and blatantly disregard the obstacles that stood in their way, like the Bureau, but she wasn't prepared to just dismiss it either. He had her utmost trust, something she rarely gave to anyone, and couldn't think of a man besides Derek she'd ever allowed that close. Even Smith hadn't managed to gain her absolute and complete trust like Hotch had.

But Hotch... there wasn't a doubt in her mind that if she ever turned her heart completely over to him, he'd protect it and cherish it. He was already there for her in any way he could be any every way she let him. Her day was brighter when he was in it. She felt the absolute safest when he was at her back, and not because she didn't trust the rest of her team, but because she trusted him more.

Were the fraternization rules worth breaking? Was it going to be worth the risk? Her eyes darted his way, taking him in out of the corner of her eye. Of course he was worth it. Men like Aaron Hotchner were a rare enough breed in themselves. She turned towards him, clearing her throat to get this attention. She managed a genuine if shy smile. "Hotch?"

He responded with a smile of his own, a full, brilliant one with dimples. "Go to dinner with me."

A loud crash sounded from inside Smith's room before she could reply.

* * *

_**HA! I had no idea when I was going to get around to finishing this, but I have! One more chapter and it's done and I managed to write them in a day! It'll probably be a few days before I post the final chapter, but just so you guys know that it does exist!**_

_**This one was so much more relationship focused than case focused I'd really appreciate feedback, moreso than usual.**_

_**Thanks to all of you who read this and stuck with me since I took such a break from this!**_


	13. Chapter 13

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

They were both on their feet immediately, Emily quietly calling for back up while Hotch wielded the spare key the concierge had assigned to Smith's protection detail, whoever that may have been. She found herself sliding easily into her role as agent, raising her gun in one hand and preparing to turn the handle with the other. Then, at Hotch's count of three, they were inside the room. Emily's eyes widened in surprise. It wasn't Kevin Stacks standing with his gun held at Smith's temple, but his secretary, Janine.

"Put down your weapons," she ordered. "Or I blow his head off." She laughed a little maniacally. "Well, I'm going to blow his head off anyway, but we're going to play first, aren't we Congressman."

Smith just swallowed. Fear making him shake visibly.

"We can't let you do that, Janine," Emily said calmly.

"Oh yeah? Who says? The FBI?"

It was then Emily was hit with a stroke of genius. "Janine, I say so."

"And what kind of authority do you have, huh? I know you're not the boss of this little duo here."

Emily holstered her gun, hoping to God Hotch could trust that she knew what she was doing. Because he'd written the textbook on hostage negotiation, Hotch most often took the lead in negotiation situations like this one. But she had leverage that he would never have. "Janine, I'm Emily Prentiss. Do you recognize my name?"

Her face fell into genuine sympathy. "I'm so sorry your name had to be dragged into this," she said. "I read the police reports."

Emily didn't really know if the sympathy was from the fact that Janine had passed her name on to the media to publish or because of what had actually happened.

"It's terrible that it was swept under the rug. Elite families think they can do that, you know."

It was a scenario that Emily knew all too well, not only because she'd experienced it, but because it was the norm when she'd been a child.

"I see so much... So many dirty secrets I'm just supposed to turn a blind eye to. People paid off to keep their mouths shut and not allowed the justice they deserve..."

"Killing the congressman won't bring justice to me or the baby he killed," Emily said quietly, emotion loud in her voice. "It won't bring anyone justice."

"It's what he deserves!"

Emily closed her eyes. It had been a long time, if ever, that she had voluntarily dug up the kind of pain that still haunted her after her baby's death. "No, Janine. What he deserves is to know what it's like to feel a baby die inside you. He deserves to know all of the emotional pain that comes on the heels of a miscarriage caused by someone else. There isn't a single physical pain that you could exact on him that could make him feel even a fraction of the pain that I went through when he killed my child."

Janine's eyes had filled with tears as Emily had spoken and Emily didn't dare look at Smith's reaction or chance a glance back at Hotch. Janine's gun had lowered as she'd spoken and Emily chanced a few steps closer, aware Hotch still had his own gun trained on the armed woman.

"Janine, you need to give me the gun," Emily said quietly. "It's not worth the extra blood on your hands. _He's_ not worth the extra blood on your hands."

Emily knew the other woman was about to hand over the gun. She could see it in Janine's eyes, but Smith turned before Jainine was even stretching out her hand, snatching the secretary's wrist that held the gun. Emily stepped back, partially in surprise partially in self-preservation as they struggled over the gun. Then, the unthinkable happened. The gun went off just as Hotch was moving forward. Both Janine and Smith dropped the gun. Smith dropped to the ground. Much to Emily's surprise, Janine's first reaction was complete panic.

"No!"

Hotch dropped to his knees to determine the severity of the injury at the same time backup came smashing through the door. Chaos reigned for a few moments before it was understood that the situation was under control. Dave radioed for a medic as Derek arrested Janine. Emily knelt beside Hotch, looking to him for the analysis. He brushed her hands away.

"It's just a graze, Emily."

--

Ten minutes later, Emily was in the parking lot of the hotel where lights flashed everywhere. She'd given her statement and watched Janine get escorted to a police car. She herself sat on the bumper of one of their Bureau-issue SUVs, she looked up at Hotch as he came to a stop in front of her.

"You did well in there," he said sincerely. There was a whole lot he wasn't saying and she was grateful for it. She'd faced her own demons and was still too raw to say more than she had in the hotel room.

His fingers ran along the outside of her thigh in a caress she barely felt. "That dinner?"

Her stomach growled and she felt pink stain her cheeks. "That sounds fantastic."

"Agent Hotchner?" they heard a LEO shout. "Your statement?"

She laughed as he turned to go give his statement. He hadn't taken ten steps when Smith approached. "I owe you an apology," he said, flashing her his politician's grin.

"You don't owe me anything, Smith," Emily replied coldly. "And I'd prefer to keep it that way."

"Em, really," he cajoled.

Emily shook her head, folding her arms over her FBI-issue vest. "I don't want your sympathy, Smith. I want to absorb this and move on. There's nothing we can do about what happened in the past and really, it's you who has to live with what you did."

Max smiled slightly. He forgot how incredible a woman she was. "Go to dinner with me, Emily."

"Can't," she replied with a nonchalant shrug. "I already have plans."

And Max watched her walk away, watcher her link arms with the dark-haired agent he'd been introduced to on the dance floor of the children's benefit two weeks before and could only think about what could have been. He'd lost a dynamic and strong woman, a woman who he had wronged so many years ago and yet, seemed so much more virtuous than he could ever dream to be.

* * *

_**And... we're done! This is the end of the road for all of us here at Dark of My Nightmares and we'd like to thank each and every reviewer for their feedback. Nevertheless, we are going to ask for it one more time while we apologize profusely for the AGES it took to post the previous chapter and for the few members of the board that feel as if the ending was a little abrupt. However, those board members prefer to argue that there was nothing else that could have been doing in dragging this out that hasn't happened in the last two chapters. We're still not sure what to do with them.**_

_**Review!**_


End file.
